


They Ship It

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura/Malia Tate, Multi, POV Outsider, Teacher Derek Hale, Teacher Jackson Whittemore, Teacher Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 21:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Jacqueline just started her freshman year of high school and all her friends want to talk about is how totally shippable the hottest teachers in school are, which might not be so bad if they weren't talking about Mr. Hale, Mr. Stilinski, and Mr. Whittemore.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 30
Kudos: 245
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #354: Ship





	They Ship It

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for prompt #354: Ship at Fullmoon Ficlet because of course I thought of shipping? And it just... went from there. I feel like I should apologize for this one, or something, but I HAD FUN.

Jacqueline slides into the one empty seat at the table as Caitie squeals her name loudly. She pastes on the proper smile, leans over to air kiss Caitie’s cheeks, then accepts the same from Taylor and Mira. As she pulls out her reusable lunch bag, something taps her toe under the table, and when she looks up, Matteson rolls her eyes.

Jacqueline gets it. She really really gets it. But sometimes there’s this price to being a popular teenager, and eating lunch at the right table with the right people happens to be it.

“Oh My God.” Caitie’s gaze darts to the right, then she leans forward and stage whispers, “Do you know what I saw this morning?”

Jacqueline follows the same path as Caitie’s brief look and sighs inwardly. Oh. This.

Caitie doesn’t wait for a response, simply slaps her hand down on the table, fingers spread. “I saw Mr. Whittemore shove Mr. Stilinski into a closet.”

Mira tilts her head, brow furrowed. “Why?”

Caitie smirks. “Why do you think?”

“Caitie, they are not—”

“They are totally banging,” Caitie hisses before Taylor can finish speaking. “I mean, Mr. Whittemore totally followed Mr. Stilinski into the closet and they Did Not Come Out.”

“Not coming out is totally the definition of being in the closet, yes. That doesn’t mean they’re banging,” Jacqueline mutters dryly as she lays her apple slices neatly on her plastic plate. She twists open the peanut butter and dips one slice into that first, then the caramel before she eats it.

Matteson covers her mouth, a snort of a laugh just barely held back.

Mira looks at her in confusion. Taylor tilts her head, and Caitie scowls.

“No,” Caitie says slowly. “What are you, some kind of an idiot? There’s no reason for them both to go into the closet at the same time, and definitely not for that long. Plus I heard things banging around.”

“Ohhhh,” Jacqueline draws out the word. “This would be why you say _banging_ instead of using the far more popular vernacular of fucking. Maybe they were literally just banging things around in there, and not each other.”

“Maybe they just needed a mop?” Mira suggests quietly, and Matteson snorts again. “I mean, Mr. Stilinski is really kind of awkward and klutzy and it’s totally cute, but he also knocks things over a lot, right? He probably just spilled something and Mr. Whittemore was being nice.”

“When is Mr. Whittemore ever nice?” Caitie points out.

“If you really think they’re having sex, they’d better be nice to each other,” Taylor counters. She counts out six carrot sticks and sets them down again in favor of taking a sip of her coconut water. “Besides. Mr. Stilinski can’t be having sex with Mr. Whittemore because I saw him kissing Mr. Hale outside the staff room yesterday.”

Caitie’s expression is murderous. “He was not.”

“Which he?” Matteson asks. Jacqueline appreciates the fact that she’s able to keep a completely straight face as she asks it. Matteson blinks innocently when Taylor looks at her.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Taylor says solemnly. “He did this thing where he bit Mr. Hale’s lower lip. I swear the two of them were ready to start doing it in the hall. Like, Mr. Stilinski made this noise, which was both kind of hot and kind of gross, all at the same time, and Mr. Hale said _maybe later_ and then Mr. Whittemore came up and they both jumped apart and Mr. Whittemore totally laughed at them, and Mr. Stilinski smacked Mr. Whittemore, and I think those two are kind of friends but kind of not, because they’re always arguing all the time.”

Jacqueline fishes around in her bag for the peanut butter cups that are buried under the sandwich she should really eat. Instead, she hands half the sandwich across to Matteson, because she’s pretty sure that even after eating two, Matteson could eat more. It’s a metabolism thing.

She’s right, of course. Matteson eats the half sandwich in two bites and Jacqueline can finish her own half quickly and move on to the peanut butter and chocolate.

“I saw Mr. Hale pin Mr. Whittemore against the wall,” Mira whispers. She holds her hands up when both Taylor and Caitie glare at her. “I mean. I think I did? Like. It was super early yesterday and Mr. Hale was doing this whole growling thing, and that was totally hot. He’s like. Wow, I mean, we are really lucky, aren’t we? We have the totally hottest teachers at this high school. Did you hear what Mr. Whittemore did during the first swim practice?”

Oh this is actually kind of interesting. Mira never has the gossip, or else she’s never brave enough to share it. Jacqueline leans one elbow on the table. “I did not. Do tell,” she says.

Mira smiles at that, sudden and bright beneath the attention. Jacqueline’s going to need to work on her. She seems like she’s sweet and naive and maybe she’s just looking for someone better to latch onto than Caitie and Taylor. The other two seem to be trying to personify the mean girl. Jacqueline thinks Mira has potential.

Matteson makes a noise like she agrees.

“So, Spencer was all like saying Mr. Whittemore was so old. Which he kind of is, I mean, I guess? He’s old enough that I heard he has a kid who’s like a teenager already or something,” Mira says.

Matteson has her hand over her mouth, and really, Jacqueline has to help her do something about that snort. It’s not at all delicate or ladylike.

More importantly, someone, someday, is going to pay attention to the fact that Matteson shows every possible emotion on her sleeve. Really. It’s like she was raised by wolves.

Mira, on the other hand, is oblivious and keeps talking. “So, like, Mr. Whittemore totally challenged Spencer to a race. And he beat him! He beat Spencer at the 50 free and the 100 free, then he was in the middle of keeping up with the 4x100 relay team by doing it all by himself when Mr. Hale came in and he yelled so loud that Mr. Whittemore stopped swimming right in the middle of the pool and sank under water.”

Jacqueline nibbles at her last peanut butter cup. “What did he say?”

“I think he, like, bellowed his name and then he didn’t even say anything else after that but Mr. Whittemore told the team to keep practicing and he got out of the pool and left for a while with Mr. Hale.” Mira props both elbows on the table, chin on her hands as she smiles wistfully. “I totally ship it. They’re just so pretty. I mean, they have to be together, right?”

“No, they can’t be, because Mr. Stilinski and Mr. Whittemore have hate sex—like really loud banging around in the storage room sex,” Caitie protests. “They are like the best ship ever. They have all the enemies to lovers energy, right?”

“Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilinski are all established relationship trope, though,” Taylor snaps. “They touch each other all the time if you look for it, and just catch them kissing and it’s like old people in love and trying to swallow each other’s tonsils.”

Ew. Not an image Jacqueline needed and unfortunately, she can imagine it all too well.

Matteson crumples all her papers and drops them onto Taylor’s tray without asking. “Maybe you’re just looking at it wrong. Maybe you should just ship them all together.”

Mira’s eyes go wide, Caitie’s narrow dangerously, and Taylor looks like storm clouds could be brewing over her head.

Jacqueline wants to laugh so much right now, but unlike Matteson, she will not snort audibly. She is better than that.

“Oh My God, how could you even suggest that?” Caitie hisses. “They would never cheat.”

It’s not cheating if everyone knows about it, but Jacqueline isn’t going to bother trying to explain polyamory to these girls. Just… really.

She tucks her lunch bag into her backpack and stands up. “I have pre-Calc,” she says. “Is anyone—oh right, you aren’t there yet. It’s okay, we’re only freshmen. There’s plenty of time to catch up on your math and science.”

It’s snarky, but really, they just provided both complete irritation and entertainment at the same time for her lunch. She should get to do the same for them.

Oh, and wait, there’s one more thing.

Jacqueline’s gaze drifts back to where Caitie looked earlier. Mr. Stilinski stands near the wall, having an animated conversation with one of the lunch monitors. She coughs, and when he glances her way, she touches her fingertips to her lips and blows a kiss.

She doesn’t bother looking to see what his reaction will be, because that doesn’t matter at all. It’s worth it for the indrawn breath and “Oh My God!” shouts from her friends.

Matteson jumps up and takes Jacqueline’s backpack from her, throwing it over her shoulder like it’s nothing, even added to her own laden bag. She hooks her arm around Jacqueline’s elbow. “I’m going the same way, so I’ll walk you there,” she says, and hustles her out of there before anyone can say another word.

#

They all meet up in the library after school. Taylor and Caitie gossip more than work, and are gone before it’s time to catch the late bus. Mira quietly asks Jacqueline for help as soon as they’re gone, and Jacqueline’s happy to help someone with Earth Science who actually cares about learning. She aced it two years ago, after all.

She has a feeling that out of the three of them, Mira has potential, both as a student and as a friend. She exchanges a look with Matteson over Mira’s head, and Matteson nods slightly, smiles in agreement.

They work until Mira has to run to catch the late bus, then Jacqueline and Matteson pack slowly and walk out to the almost empty parking lot. They veer past the student lot, heading around the school to the teachers’ lot in the back.

“Dad’s got a vet emergency,” Matteson says, locking her phone before she shoves it in her pocket. “Can I have a ride home? Mom’s doing that thing where she spends a week communing with spirits in the desert again, and Mom headed out this morning to go that wolf sanctuary up in Oregon.”

Translation: Dr. Deaton convinced Uncle Scott to work a double, Aunt Kira is doing kitsune things, and Aunt Malia is going to spend a week running around with wolves in her coyote form. Sounds legit.

“Of course. Are you ready for the daily attempt to convince me to pick a car?” Jacqueline gestures at the three cars sitting in the parking lot. “Dad thinks I should get in the Porsche, but since you’re with me, that means using the back seat, and I don’t care what he says, that is not a functional back seat. Pops is driving a car that’s older than me but he always looks so sad when I call it a death trap. I mean, Dad says the same thing, right? And Papa has the total dad-mobile.” She glances sideways at Matteson. “Normally I’d go with Dad, but since you’re along, you pick.”

They stop in the middle of the parking lot. Matteson tilts her head, and slowly turns to look at the black Toyota which is subtly rocking from side to side. She coughs loudly, then mutters, “Not Uncle Derek’s car. Because gross.”

The back door of the Toyota pops open and Jacqueline wonders what her friends would think if they could see Mr. Stilinski now. Like Jacqueline has to see him. Every day. With his hair mussed and a bright fresh mark on his throat that she can see from across the parking lot. And with the way Matteson is wrinkling her nose, he probably stinks.

God, they probably all stink.

“You’re all a disgrace,” she says sharply as she stalks closer to the Toyota. “What if someone saw you?”

“They won’t see us,” Pops says cheerfully. “They never do.”

She looks at him, and he sits back, watching her. “You are not as subtle as you think you are,” she says. “Caitie totally thinks you and Dad are screwing each other in the closet between classes.”

Pops gives Dad a look, and okay, yeah, they so totally are, but Jacqueline isn’t going to tell Caitie that.

“And Papa, stop making out with Pops in the hall, because Taylor totally saw you. And oh my God, Papa did you have to go all alpha on Dad? Mira thinks you guys ought to get it on because you’d be pretty together.”

“She’s right,” Pops says with a grin. “They are so, so pretty together. Love to watch.”

“Pops!” Jacqueline yells, while Matteson doesn’t even bother to hide her loud snort.

Matteson peers around to look past Pops in the door. “I am not getting in that car. We’re riding in the death trap.”

“It’s not a death trap,” Pops protests.

“It is,” Dad replies, and Jacqueline would high five him but that would be childish.

All three of her fathers climb out of the back of Papa’s car and Jacqueline is relieved to see that they are at least vaguely presentable. Pops pulls her into a hug.

“Stop it, you’re messing up my hair.” Jacqueline tosses the curls over her shoulder, and checks to make sure no one saw a teacher hugging her.

“You’re my kid, that’s my right,” Pops says.

“The best part of having four last names is that I could pick the one that makes sure that no one at this school ever knows that,” Jacqueline reminds him. “As far as anyone is concerned, I am a Martin. I am not a Stilinski, I am not a Hale, and I am not a Whittemore.”

“But you are,” Papa says quietly, and Jacqueline feels her frustration slipping away.

“I’m all of those,” she mumbles. Because she is and she loves them, even if they are the most embarrassing fathers on the face of the earth and she really doesn’t want the whole damned high school population knowing that all three of her fathers work there.

“But none of our friends have to know it,” Matteson adds cheerfully. “I mean, like,” she stresses the word just like their friends do, “it’s totally like they don’t even understand the idea that a relationship can be between three people, right?”

Papa leans against the front of his car and pats the hood. He’s pretty picky about people not climbing on his car—as if a dad-mobile needs that kind of protection—so Jacqueline takes the invitation and climbs up to sit on the hood, Matteson perching next to her. “So. How is freshman year going?” he asks quietly.

Jacqueline examines her nails. “One—half the teachers here are utterly useless and why couldn’t I take Calculus this year? I’m testing out of math next year and just taking classes at the community college.”

Papa arches one eyebrow. “Two—your friends?”

Pops leans into Papa, arm around his back. Dad’s closer to Jacqueline and for a moment she wants to just slide into his arms and curl up like she’s still five years old.

She huffs a put-upon sigh. “It’s okay. They’re all just so… stupid.”

“Jackie,” Pops says.

“Jacqueline,” she snaps. “Or I’ll tell Mom that you made out with both Papa and Dad on school property and maybe she’ll let me skip high school and go straight to MIT.”

“Lydia does not get to make the decisions about your life, and you know it,” Dad says quietly. “Your our daughter.” He tucks her hair behind her ear, hand pressed flat against her cheek when tears threaten to prick her eyes.

“Mira has potential,” Matteson offers. “I think maybe even potential pack potential. I like her.”

Like like or just like? Jacqueline files that away to ask about later. “Mira has potential,” she agrees. “I can’t see how Taylor and Caitie became the top girls in our class, either socially or academically. All they talk about is you.”

“It’s normal for young girls to look up to older men and women—”

“Pfft.” Jacqueline cuts Pops off. “They don’t look up to you. They ship you. They see you as pretty dolls they can bang together in these weird little fictions they’re writing in their heads and the worst part is, I can’t even tell them that they’re right.”

Oh.

She flushes. She’s the center of attention and they’re all waiting for her to follow that up with some kind of scintillating comment on the topic. Like admitting that maybe she’s more upset about not being able to say anything than she is about potentially being linked to teachers.

As if she’s upset about that at all.

“You could invite them over,” Papa suggests. “Tell them it’s a secret and they can’t talk about it.”

“It’d be all over the school,” Jacqueline mutters.

“Honey, it’s not actually a secret,” Pops says gently. Dad tugs her into a hug, and Jacqueline mumbles nonsense against his chest while Pops keeps talking. “We’ve been trying to make your freshman year easier but believe me, the whole school knows we’re all together. It was a little awkward at first, but once the administration decided they’d rather have teachers who actually taught useful subjects that they knew something about, and didn’t die when the first witch wandered through town, it all quieted down. So maybe think about how you can use it to your advantage.”

An advantage.

Of course.

Jacqueline slides off the hood of the car, walks quickly toward the Jeep without looking to see if Matteson or Pops are following. She has her phone in her hands, and is texting the new group chat they only started a few days ago, when freshman year began.

_Group study night at my place! Bring PJs and a sleeping bag and we’ll watch movies after. Bring your hardest problems and try to stump me._

She presses send, then taps out another address with her message.

Taylor pings back almost immediately with her agreement, and offers to have her older brother pick up Caitie and Mira on the way to dropping her off. Jacqueline adds a time to the invitation, and puts her phone in her pocket.

“Great idea,” she smirks at Pops. “Be ready for an invasion force at seven.” She doesn’t raise her voice; Papa and Dad can hear her perfectly despite the distance even though Matteson is snorting again. She reaches up, pats Pops’s cheek. “Don’t worry. Tonight’s going to be a total blast. Because like I said, they totally ship you. I can’t wait to see their brains explode.”

And just like that, Jacqueline is back in control of everything. Her freshman year. Her high school career, and soon her high school. She’s got it all.

Even if her fathers are apparently the most shippable people in school.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you're curious...
> 
> Lydia is Jacqueline's bio-mom, and Jackson is her bio-dad. Lydia offered to carry a child for the triad because she wants to be the cool aunt more than she wants to be a mom, and the guys really wanted kids.
> 
> Derek teaches History, Jackson teachers Government and Economics, and Stiles teaches Chemistry (and sometimes Physics). Jacqueline is dreading actually having them for teachers and is thankful that Stiles doesn't teach math because he'd make her miserable somehow, she's sure of it.
> 
> You can find me (mostly silent) on Tumblr as [tryslora](http://tryslora.tumblr.com) and on Pillowfort as [tryslora](https://www.pillowfort.io/tryslora). I also write original fiction! If you like my fic, you might like my original twice-weekly series [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com) (also mirroring on Pillowfort at [Welcome to PHU](https://www.pillowfort.io/community/WelcomeToPHU)).


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